I Couldn't Make This Up if I Tried

At the end of the night last night, I was already putting this blog entry together in my head. It's like I got a call from God that said, "Sandy, I'm going to give you the best blog material you've ever seen. You just need to find the words..."
So, it all started after a long day of washing baby clothes, folding them, and putting them away. My mom came over and helped me lug laundry up and down the stairs. We also put together a bunch of assembly required baby stuff. Needless to say, we were pretty tired and hungry by the time Daryl got home from work. We decided to call my Dad and brother so that they could come over and go out to eat with us for dinner. Since my dad and brother had a long day of destroying the front porch and watching football, they agreed that dinner out sounded like a fine idea.
We all piled into my dad's Aztec and headed off to Shore's Inn, previously one of our favorite dinner spots. We were heading down 9 mile when we saw police car lights flashing. Gawking as we drove by, we saw that one of those little mail trucks had gone the wrong way off the road onto the grass and smashed into a small tree. The mailman was sitting in the back of the mail truck looking rather dejected. It was very sad, but we sort of laughed at him a little bit because you just couldn't help it. Maybe that's when karma decided to rear its ugly head.
We got to Shores and were sad to find that the non-smoking section was full. So, the server offered to seat us outside on the heated, enclosed patio. We agreed that would be fine. We were the only people out on the patio, but that was fine. It was nice and warm and there was a big screen TV showing the football games. My dad was especially excited for dinner since he had to fast all day today for a medical test he's having done on Monday. He was looking forward to a good last meal. Alas, it wasn't going to be such a good last meal.
Everything was going along just fine for a little while. Everyone ordered drinks and we were perusing the menu when suddenly the door from the inside of the restaurant to the patio swung open. The door was behind me, and I couldn't see what was happening immediately, but I could certainly hear it. A rather drunk woman in a business suit was bellowing at the top of her lungs, "I'm going to f__ing kill her! I'm going to f___ing kill her!" A bunch of people were trying to hold her back and keep her outside. I looked at Daryl, my parents, and my brother with raised eyebrows. What was going on? We were just a little shocked. We sat still, almost embarrassed to witness what was obviously a drunken display of drama, and waited for what we thought would inevitably happen. We thought that the swearing lady and her friends would relocate somewhere else. Anywhere. We thought they would see us, notice us, be embarrass and move more than five feet away from our table. We looked in the direction of the door that led to the outside, hoping they would get the hint, but unfortunately it seemed that they were determined to play out their mini-soap opera right next to our table. It was almost like dinner theater. The woman continued to scream, cry, and use the f word repeatedly and finally we decided that they must not have noticed us sitting there. We made rather loud comments about feeling awkward, but nothing changed. The rant continued. I excused myself from the table because I was starting to feel very stressed out and thought I might be able to go inside and report that there was complete madness happening out on the patio. I reported the incident to two guys clearing off a table since, and they said, "Yeah, we know. The manager's out there trying to calm her down." Oh. So, one of the guys in suits was the manager. Strange. So, I returned and the scene continued to play out for at least five more minutes. At one point another woman come out....I could only deduce from the sobbing, swearing woman's reaction that this was the woman she wanted to kill. She looked at the woman and said, "Get away from me, go away." The second woman went back inside. All this, still just a few yards away from our dinner table. Maybe they were waiting for us to leave??
Finally, the woman had calmed down enough to go back inside. The suits took her back in and we all started laughing. It was by far the most ridiculous scene we had ever witnessed. As soon as we started to relax and wonder out loud what happened, the doors swung open again and this time they were trying to take the screaming lady outside to a car. She got half way across Mack Ave, and then tried to sit down. We were watching her out the window wondering why the manager had let her back inside in the first place. Then, one of the suits came into the patio area (keep in mind that we were still the only ones sitting out there and our waiter was nowhere to be seen), and this guy starts up a loud conversation on his cell phone about how the lady had a meltdown. He was in the middle of giving a word by word play by play when we just all started laughing. How many times were we going to hear the f word before our dinner was over?
Then, he actually turned around and got mad at us for laughing. He told the person on the other end that we were a table of insensitive jerks laughing about what was obviously a very serious situation. Hm... Yes, I guess we had been in an insensitive mood all night.
Finally our food came, and we looked expectantly at our waiter for some sort of apology. Nothing. Then, he came back to see how everything was, so I asked him, "Was your manager just out here to see the incident that took place?" It was clear from his face that he didn't know what I was talking about. "I'll get the manager for you," he said. She came out and obviously she was NOT one of the suits that had been out earlier. We tried to explain everything to her. She quickly apologized, but you could tell that she really didn't get the fact that the people had been performing for us for a good ten minutes, so we reexplained. She told us that there was a funeral for a city prosecutor who had killed himself and that these were all his friends. Lovely. His girlfriend was apparently the one having a meltdown.
Now, I understand that the situation she explained is tough, but at the same time, what are you doing at a bar getting tanked, making a fool of yourself after a loved one's funeral? There's a point at which you just need to all go home, and these people had obviously passed that point hours ago.
By now there was another group at a table near ours. Little did they know what they had missed. Soon enough though, they were able to enjoy their own tableside drama. The woman who was the target of earlier death threats came outside to make a cell phone call. She leaned up against the side of the table of newcomers and started blasting off foul language to whoever was on the other end. The newcomers looked mortified and we just gave them a knowing look. Yes, we had been there done that.
We had several more visits to our table from the manager checking to see if we had recovered from the craziness. We kept ensuring her that all was well. Finally, we got the check and even though we hadn't said anything we totally expected some sort of compensation for the terrible antics we were forced to witness. Nope. Nada. I'm not the kind of person to ever expect discounts off my bill. I don't even get upset if a server forgets something or if the food isn't cooked properly. I'm pretty laid back about all that, but I thought this was an exceptional set of circumstances.
So, my brother has vowed to write the best complaint letter ever that will detail how no one came to our rescue out on the patio. He's hoping to get some free ribs at least.